


Goal: Survive

by zombiemal



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Anxiety, Closeted Bisexual Steve, Closeted Gay Billy, Fix-It, Harringrove, Minor Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spoilers for Season 3, Time Travel, eventual harringrove, my boy billy deserves better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-06-29 09:25:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19827226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiemal/pseuds/zombiemal
Summary: Spoilers for Season 3. Time travel. Fix-it with elements from season two and three.





	1. Master Plan

He woke with a start, sucking in a deep breath like it was the first one he'd ever take. His hand flew to his chest, expecting to feel it sticky with blood, or ooze, whatever is was that _thing_ bled. He looked down, his chest unmarred and his hand clean except for the sweat from his chest. Every part of him was soaked, even his fitted sheet had a Billy shaped wet spot on it.

He stumbled out of his bed, pulling the sheets off the bed because they were tangled around his waist, walking across the hall to the bathroom to stare at the mirror, looking into his own blue eyes. It was just a dream. Just a dream. He was back in his house in California and this was all just a stress dream about them having to move.

He could still feel the tentacles, the teeth, stabbing into him, lifting him off the ground before stabbing him through the chest. He could remember what it felt like to be trapped inside his own head, screaming to be let out as he watched the monster take the people in town. The people he lead to it.

He stumbled back from the mirror as flashes of memories from when the monster was controlling him ran through his mind, his bare back hitting the wall and he slid down onto the ground, pulling his knees to his chest, yesterday's jeans still covering them. 

He closed his eyes tight, cupping his hands over his ears as he tried to will the thoughts away. It was just a dream. There was no way that thing could be real, those awful things could be real. It had to be a dream, the alternative would be too bad to think of.

But the memories of the dream were so vivid, and there were plenty of them. Of moving to that shitty little town in Indiana. He remembered people's names so vividly, could put them to faces, a whole town of people. How had he dreamed all that up?

A knocking on the bathroom door ripped him from his thoughts. 

"I need the bathroom, stop flirting with yourself in the mirror."

Max. He remembered her in the dream too. 

Billy picked himself off the floor, still trying to calm his breathing down as his step sister knocked on the door again, harder this time. "Come on, Billy!"

He jerked the door open, pushing past the redhead without looking at her, and slamming his bedroom door behind him. He went over to the record player, putting something loud on, before he fell back into bed, his face in the pillow. He grabbed the pillow in his fists and bunched it up, pressing it to his mouth as he screamed into it as loud as he could. He wasn't sure how long he did that, but when he stopped his throat throbbed and he lost his voice. Didn't really matter, he had nothing to say to anyone, anyway.

Even days later Billy was no better off. Sometimes the Déjà vu would hit him so hard he'd freeze. It happened so bad one time when he and Neil were fighting that he didn't duck the older male's fist in time, and was sporting a purple bruise right below his left eye. He prodded at it in the mirror the day after it happened, then just shook his head, put on his mirrored aviators and went for a drive down the beachfront one last time before they left.

He couldn't stand being in the house any longer, feeling like he was just repeating time, so he decided to drive out a week early to Indiana, if for nothing else than to change up the pace. He stopped along the way at rest stops, tourist attractions, National Parks, basically anything he knew he hadn't done "the first time" so that he wouldn't get the feeling again, the one that told he'd lived this day before, said these words before.

What really got him was when he got to the house, the one that Neil and Susan had bought long distance. 4819 Cherry Lane. In the dream, he could remember Max saying the address to him, trying to bring him out of his own head, but the monster just smacked her away. 

The 4819 Cherry Lane in his dream looked just like this one, and he wasn't sure how his mind could conjure up the exact layout of a house he'd never seen before. He dropped his duffel bag on the living room floor, then dropped to his knees, catching his face in his hands as his shoulders shook in silent sobs, and he prayed to God he no longer believed in, praying that this wasn't real.

The day after Billy arrived the rest of his "family" showed up, and he slowly began to realize he just might have to admit that he actually was repeating time. He wasn't quite ready to admit fully it yet, because admitting it meant that he was all but doomed to die in a little less than a year, after being turned into some mind controlled zombie.

The concept of time travel wasn't exactly new to him, but it seemed like every movie or book that touched on it just showed how it would inevitably all go horribly wrong. Had he already changed things too much? How did he know his future wasn't already changed?

If he decided not to mess with time, did that mean that he had to act exactly how had he the year before? He really didn't want to. The things that made him so mad the year before seemed pointless now. 

Plus he'd all but screwed that up anyway, since he'd been treating Max much better than he had the year before. Ever since the thing with the bat he'd respected her a lot more and it was hard to hide that. He wasn't treating her nicely, per say, but he was taking her places without much complaint, and he wasn't making as many shitty remarks to her.

On nights when he couldn't sleep, which was almost all of them, he found himself scribbling in an old math notebook he'd dug out of a box in the closet, trying to make a timeline and figure out how he could change time just enough that he didn't die, while not just throwing someone else into the line of the monster.

He remembers pieces of things the monster showed him that he, even as the mind controlled Billy, wasn't a part of. Like some teenage girl closing some portal, which Billy couldn't really make sense of, except that the monster was somehow connected to the portal. He only knows the girl by Elle which he was sure was short for Michelle or maybe even Eleanor, and he doesn't think that's going to be enough to find her. 

He throws the notebook at the wall one night, frustrated. Say he did get the group to trust him, how would he even begin to explain what he knew or how he knew it? They couldn't trust him, some outsider coming into their lives and going 'hey I know all about this hinky shit you weird fucks are into.' That just wouldn't go over well.

He began to find it hopeless that he might ever be able to stop it, everytime he came up with a plan he found ten ways it wouldn't work. He began to feel like this was, no matter what he did, his last year on earth.

That’s the night he loses it, and jumps in the Camaro, with two gas containers in the trunk. He drives silently, ejecting the cassette from the dash when he slips behind the wheel. Where he’s going he doesn’t want to taint the memory of his favorite songs. He makes sure to drive slowly out of the driveway, and doesn’t turn his lights on until he’s on the road, as to not wake up his dad or step mom.

When he sees it his mouth dries instantly, and he almost doesn’t get out of the car. He can’t even bring himself to pull into the parking lot, instead just pulling off the road a bit and putting it in park a few hundred yards away the building. He waited for several minutes to make sure the road was as dead as he thought it was, then he stepped out, looking up at the words painted on the side of the building. **Brimborn Steel Works.**

_Fuck._ He thought, staring at the building for a long time, his chest clenching. He reached up and rubbed the center of it, the memory of getting stabbed still freshly vivid in his mind. “Fuck it.” He mutters under his breath, grabbing the gas containers from the back.

It takes him a while, unsurprisingly, to make it down into the lower levels of the warehouse, but he manages it after pausing several times to take a few deep breaths. Maybe the monster will make it his home in the burned out husk of the steelworks anyway, or just find somewhere else, but he can’t stand the thought of anyone else losing their life in this place.

He uses an entire gas can on the lower level, and most of the rest of one on the main level, leaving just enough to leave a trail into the parking lot. He was careful not to get any of his boots or jeans so he didn’t risk lighting himself on fire when he stood back, lit a match from a small pack he’d brought with him, and flicked it towards the puddle he’d made several feet away. He had to toss a couple before he hit it perfectly, but as he stood back and watched as the trail of fire made its way across the parking lot and into the building he couldn’t help but feel some sense of relief.

As Billy drove away from the flames he had a smile on his face for the first time in weeks, and he popped a cassette into the radio, turning something with a lot of guitar solos to jam out to as he drove back to his house.

He picked up the notebook when he got back into his room, ripping out and tossing most of the pages that had long, detailed plans that he would get halfway through and then cross out. Instead he started a new page, one that was blank except for the imprints of his writing on the pages before it. He started this one with just bullet points, deciding that maybe long plans weren’t his thing.

Neil.  
Elle.  
Don’t be a dick.

He stared at the list. It barely took up any space on the page but there it was, his master plan.

A few days later, on the Friday before school started, Billy found himself in the hallway outside Max’s room. The door was closed, and he could hear music on the other side, probably Madonna if he knew her. After a few moments of listening he lifted his hand, giving the door a hard couple raps with his knuckles.

His step sister opened the door, already looking annoyed. “What?” She snapped.

He almost said something shitty. He wasn’t even sure why, but he almost just told her to keep the fucking music down. He remembered the list, the master plan, and stopped himself. 

“Come on, dad and Susan are gone and I want a milkshake. I’ll be in the car.” He said in a bossy tone, turning on his heel and stomping out to his car.

Moments later he was sitting behind the wheel of his Camaro, revving the engine impatiently. “Hurry the fuck up!” He shouted out the open window that he was letting his arm hang out of.

Glancing over at the house he watched as Max pulled back the curtain by the door to flip him off. He had to look away to keep her from seeing him give a smile

In direct contrast from his drive the other night, Billy immediately began to drive entirely too fast, with the radio playing entirely too loud.

“Slow down, you’re going to kill us.” Max said, gripping onto the door handle to keep herself from sliding around.

_Maybe._ Billy thought. _Wouldn’t that be a better way to go?_

“Come on, Maxine,” He said, grinning as she shot him a look that could kill. “Chill out, we’re having fun!”

She gripped the door tighter, mumbling “I’m _not_ having fun” under her breath.

Billy pretended not to hear her.

He wondered if she’d feel differently if she knew he was a different Billy, that he didn’t actually have any intention of getting either of them hurt.

The blonde slowed down, though only slightly, and only because they were nearing their destination. 

Billy pulled quickly into the gravel parking lot of a 24-hour diner he’d seen, fast enough that his tires threw rocks across the road. He saw the handicap parking space and almost took it, but stopped himself, swinging into a parking spot further away. It was small, but at least it went towards step three in his master plan.

He cringed when he slid into the booth at the diner, his leather jacket making an awful squeak against the vinyl. He ordered a chocolate shake, Max ordered strawberry, and just before the waitress walked away Billy decided to grab an order of fries, for them to share. Again, it was a small act of kindness but small was all he had right now.

They waited in mostly silence, Billy and the waitress making eyes at each other as she made their shakes, because even after everything that still came easily to him. Max ignored it by reading the “get to know us” part of the menu, that went over when and who started the diner.

“Can I get you anything else?” The waitress asked when she sat the shakes and fries down on their table, looking only at Billy.

“No thanks, babe, but I’ll let you know.” He said in a flirting tone. The waitress smiled and walked away, glancing behind her at him more than once. 

After they had a few fries Billy decided to break the silence, swallowing a fry before asking her, “Excited for school?”

“No.” Max scoffed, throwing herself back into the booth hard enough it shook a bit, crossing her arms.

Billy wasn’t sure if he could blame her, really. He remembered how pissed he was to transfer to a different school in the middle of high school. At least now he’d have the benefit having already passed the eleventh grade.

He reached across the table, grabbing the cherry from the top of Max’s shake, popping it into his mouth even though she called out “Hey!”

“You’ll get over it, brat.” He said around, meaning both about the cherry and not being excited for school. He knew she would make friends with the group of nerds in her grade, and she would end up okay even if he didn’t.

The next Monday, as Billy stepped out of his car in the parking lot of the high school, he realized he made a critical error, leaving something out of his master plan. It was hard to forget now, as he locked eyes with bambi brown eyes over the tops of cars. Fuck, he was screwed.

With everything with the monster, and dying, he’d left off the most important person from the list.

Steven “King Steve” Harrington.


	2. Halloween 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy tries to ride the fine line between who he was before and who he is now. Goes to a party and runs into Steve. 
> 
> Content Warning: he had a panic attack in this one.

The good thing was that already going through this once allowed him to relax about school. He didn’t have to worry about actually learning anything because it had been taught to him before, and all he had to do was just sit next to a pretty girl in every class and they’d share their notes with him before any test. He wasn’t that worried about his grades anyway, he’d only have to get into college assuming he actually survived this year.

He played it mostly cool until Halloween, except for being just a bit of a dick towards Max about the nerds, knowing if he wasn’t then it wouldn’t push her towards them that much more. He needed everything to happen in pretty much the same way just… better.

“You’re late.” He told her that day, leaning against the Camaro while he waited for her.

“Won’t happen again.” She said, yanking the door handle quite violently before getting in the Camaro with her skateboard.

“No, it won't.” He said gruffly, flicking his cigarette away before he got in the car himself.

Max stayed silent as they pulled out of the parking lot, and Billy flipped the radio stations a couple times before just shoving a cassette into the player, cursing under his breath.

He wonders if Max could feel it, the slight difference in his demeanor. Maybe she just thought it had to do with Neil, instead of being controlled by a different kind of monster.

“This fucking town is such bullshit.” He said out loud, mostly not meaning to.

“It’s not that bad.” Max said.

Fuck. This is it. This is basically the same conversation they’d had a year ago and Billy had started it again without even meaning to.

“No?” He reached over, rolling her window down, because he remembered doing it a year ago. “Mmmm, you smell that Max? That’s actually shit. Cow shit.” 

“I don’t see any cows.” Max snapped back, reaching over to roll her window back up.

“Clearly you haven’t met the highschool girls.” Fuck, why had he been such a fucking tool?

He saw the redhead roll her eyes dramatically out of the corner of his eye.

“So what, you like it here now?” He asked.

“No.”

“Then why are you defending it?”

“I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

Again she rolled her eyes, shaking her head a bit. “It’s just, we’re stuck here so-”

Billy cut her off. “Mmm right, we’re stuck here.” He looked over at her, trying to capture the same contempt in his tone and look that he’d had the first time. “And whose fault is that?”

She made a face, one that said they both knew the answer to that. “Yours.” She whispered.

He snapped his head back to her, his heart began to race, knowing what was coming up in a moment. “What’d you say?” He looked back at the road.

“Nothing.” She said quickly. He knew that tone. When he was younger he’d use the same tone with Neil, trying to backtrack so he wouldn’t be angry.

Billy forced himself to stay on script. “You say it’s my fault?” His voice was dangerously low.

“No.” She said with a slight shake of her head.

“You know whose fault it is. Say it.”

He looked over at her, rigid, silent, obviously scared. He looked back at the road.

“Maaaax… Say it.” 

She kept silent.

He forced himself to snap towards her, leaning over towards her. “Say it!” He screamed, right in her ear.

He looked back at the road, shifted gears and pressed the gas pedal down hard, speeding up, trying to scare her now. Fuck.

The blue muscle car barreled down the street, blowing dead leaves around in its wake as he began drumming on the steering wheel.

Max leaned forward in the front seat. “Billy, slow down.”

He glanced over. “Oh these your new hick friends?” He teased, not letting off the gas.

“No! No, I don’t know them!”

“Oh, I guess you won’t care if I hit them then? I get bonus points if I hit them all in one go?” He asked, louder than necessary.

“No, Billy, stop. It’s not funny.”

He looked over at her, feigning boredness, still drumming on the steering wheel. He was forced to tune her out as they neared the nerd group, trying to remind himself that he needed her to want to make it up to them, needed her to become their friend.

At the last second, like he knew she would, she grabbed the wheel and jerked it to the side. He let her, having never actually intending on hitting the kids, even the first time. He wasn’t really stupid enough to get sent to jail for mowing down a bunch of children in broad day light, even at seventeen.

“Yeah! That was a close one, huh?!” He exclaimed, though she ignored him, looking back to make sure they were alright.

He finally slowed down as they neared his house. “Come on, Max, it was just a bit of fun.”

She had her arms crossed as she stared out the window.

“I wasn’t going to hit them.” He said, sounding annoyed because that’s how he’d sounded the first time.

He’d barely pulled into their driveway when she was opening the door and jumping out with her backpack and skateboard. 

“Max, hey!” He called after her as he parked. “Max, I’m sorry!” 

She slammed the door to the house behind her. He sighed, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing it. Fuck. 

He brought his fist down on the steering wheel. Then again. Again. “Uggggh!” He exclaimed, yanking the keys out of the ignition and getting out of the car. He threw the door closed with more force than he needed to. 

Repeating time, repeating the same mistakes, was getting fucking old if you asked him.

That night was the party. He remembers the hangover the next day more than he does the actual events of the party, but he remembers what he wore so he gets dressed in that.

When he’s done getting dressed, he steps back from the closet, looking into the mirror beside it. His hands run over his chest, his stomach. _There should be scars here._ He thinks as his fingers trace the outline of his abs. He’d never be able to wear anything but an open jacket if he’d lived past that night at the Starcourt mall. 

Thinking about that night made his stomach twist, and he swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. Without meaning to his thoughts spiraled into flashes of that night. Pain pain pain. 

He felt his chest tighten, and he stumbled over to the bed. He grabbed the pillow, hugging it to his chest and burying his face in it, the same way he had when he first woke up. He could hear the monster’s voice in his head, almost as clear as if he were still speaking it, telling him who to take.

He clutched the pillow tighter, his hands in fists so tight they were shaking, the skin white over his knuckles. He held them that way for a few moments, because he could. He was the one in control of his own body and he’d prove it to himself even if it hurt to keep his muscles tightened like a coil.

Billy wasn’t even aware he’d curled himself onto the floor until he heard someone knocking on the door.

“William?”

Susan. She was the only only that called him by his full name. Billy wiped the sweat-or maybe it was tears-from his face, but stayed on the carpet. “Yeah?” He called out, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice behind fake annoyance.

“I was wondering if you’d drop your sister off to go trick-or-treating.”

“When?”

He remembers that last year he’d asked ‘can’t the brat just walk?’ but he didn’t have the mental energy to be that much of a dick right now.

“Oh.” Susan said, probably surprised there wasn’t a fight. There was always a fight trying to get Billy to do anything before. “She says eight?”

Billy looked over at the clock in his bedside table. 7:32. “Yeah, give me a minute.”

He wasn’t sure if Susan heard him, since he couldn’t bring himself to raise his voice, but he didn’t hear her on the other side of the door so he assumed she had.

He breathed deeply for a few seconds-in through the nose, out through the mouth-taking a moment to try to relax the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back. 

Billy swiped on an extra layer of deodorant, since he’d all but completely sweated off the first layer, then grabbed his car keys from a bookshelf by his door. He swung it open, surprised to find Susan still standing there. “What?” He snapped, not faking annoyance this time.

“Are you alright, William? I’ve noticed the past couple weeks you’ve-”

“I’m fine.” He said firmly, cutting her off. He didn’t know why she cared, it wasn’t like she was unaware of the complete prick his father was.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Billy just sighed, shaking his head. He turned himself to the side, passing her with only minimal touching, not wanting to completely body check her out of the way.

“I’ll be in the car.” He called down the hall towards his step-sisters room. 

He took a deep breath as he stepped outside, letting the cold air chill the remaining sweat on his skin, sting his nostrils, and bring him the rest of the way back to earth.

Being the monster’s doll had felt cold, but in a different way than the natural changing of the weather. It was cold like the way that love was warm. He couldn’t actually remember feeling chilly, the way he did now as he stood beside a pumpkin that Susan had painstakingly carved into the perfect jack-o-lantern, nudging it with the toe of his boot. He scoffed at it as he pulled out a cigarette, lighting it as he walked to his car.

He’d just started the car and began to let it warm up when Max came out the door, trotting over to the car and getting in without saying anything to him. He could guess that she was still mad about earlier, and he wasn’t entirely sure he blamed her.

“Where?” He asked simply, flicking the still lit cigarette butt on to his driveway before taking off into the general direction of the main part of town.

“Just stop whenever you start seeing trick-or-treaters.” She still wouldn’t look at him.

He drove in mostly silence, much slower than earlier in the day, chewing on his lower lip while he tried to figure out how to approach the topic with the redhead in his passenger seat.

“Here’s fine.” She said suddenly, trying to yank open the door as he came to a stop sign.

He reached over quickly, grabbing onto her arm. “Wait.” He said, coming to a complete stop. “Just wait.” He said, more gently this time, letting go of her arm.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, but she remained in the car, watching Billy as he stared out the windshield, though no cars were coming from either direction and he could have taken off a while ago.

Billy sighed, dropping his head and rubbing his eyes with one hand. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but then heard a horn from behind him. He glared in the rear-view mirror, sticking his arm out the window and waving the car through. “Go around, asshole.” He yelled, though the person probably didn’t hear him. They seemed to get the hint though because they sped past Billy moments later.

He glanced over at the passenger seat, but Max was already gone. She left the door open on her way out. “Shit.” He said, leaning across the center console to grab and close the door. He dug through the glove box while over there, digging out the obnoxiously bright flyer for a party he’d stuffed in it the day before. He spent a moment flattening it out, looking at the address before pulling out a map of Hawkins he’d bought when he got there, quickly finding the road on it, then finding where he was. He used a pencil he kept in the glove box to mark the way. Of course he’d been there before, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. After everything you could hardly blame him if he didn’t remember some annoying girl who he didn’t even share a class with address.

Driving there wasn’t going to take a while, so he found himself trying to find something else to do in the meantime. Most of the stores downtown were closed so those were out, but he was surprised to find that the arcade that he always took Max to was open. He parked in the mostly empty parking lot, and buttoned up his jacket before stepping inside, not knowing how serious they were about “no shoes, no shirt, no service”. 

He pulled out a couple dollar bills from his wallet and handed them over to the pimply face teenager that was working there, taking the quarters he was given back. He glanced at the home screens for a couple of the games, noticing a lot of them seemed to have a high score with the name “MADMAX” next to him. He smiled, glad he hadn’t been forced to bring her so often for nothing.

He found one of those basketball games, and proceeded to put all the quarters he had into the game. He was surprised with how relaxing it was, just standing there shooting hoops, the steady movement drawing his mind away from the stress of the last few weeks into a place of quiet calm.

After a few minutes he reached down and was surprised when another ball wasn’t there. He looked down, realizing his time had run out, and the machine was spitting out an obnoxious about of tickets. He rolled his eyes, waiting impatiently as it finished printing. He yanked them out of the slot, and was about to drop them in a trash nearby when he stopped himself, realizing he could just slip them into Max’s room later, she probably had a ton and it might help her if she was saving them up for anything.

He nodded to the employee on his way out, folding the tickets neatly and tossing them in his glove box, cursing as he realized he’d only wasted about five minutes of his time and two dollars. 

He decided fuck it, he’d be a bit early to the party. The earlier he showed up the earlier he could drink, right? He helped the hostess, Tina he’d learned, set things up. Apparently he was the only one that knew how to tap a keg, which was embarrassing if you asked him. What self respecting seventeen-year-old didn’t know how to tap a keg?

By ten he was pretty trashed, so when someone dared him to try to break the keg stand record, he was all too eager to try. He realized, as he leaned over the keg and kicked off the ground, that he remembered this. Somewhere, beneath the monster, beneath the haziness of alcohol, he could remember what this night a year ago felt like to him. Stupid, simple teenage bliss. His chest tightened when he realized he’d never feel like that again.

“40! 41! 42!” 

They let Billy down, and he spit the last little bit of beer in his mouth like a fountain, and taking his cigarette from someone who had kindly held it. He didn’t really hear what they were saying as he was led into the living room. His eyes landed on the objective, who he was being led towards.

“We have ourselves new keg king, Harrington!” Someone yelled right in Billy’s ear. If he wasn’t so focused he might have gotten annoyed.

Steve stood there, his hair perfectly swept-back, except for the couple strands hanging over his forehead. He sized Billy up, and took off his Ray-Bans. Billy felt a lump developed in his throat as he stared into Steve’s brown eyes, that were soft even though they were having a stare-down.

Beside him, Nancy rolled her eyes and stepped away from them, moving towards the kitchen.

Billy smirked. “Your girl is leaving you, Harrington. Better run after her.” 

Steve didn’t say anything to him, just walked away after Nancy. Billy turned back to the crowd, raising his arms in the air as they cheered for their new keg king. He’d really cared about such stupid shit the year before, hadn’t he?

The party, and drinks continued, but eventually Billy had to get away from it. He could only patiently deal with so many drunk girls hitting on him. He sat on Tina’s front steps alone, smoking a cigarette, when someone came rushing out of the front door, slamming it behind them. Billy jumped slightly, just as the person bumped into him on their mad dash out of the party, knocking the cigarette out of Billy’s hand and into his lap. “Shit!” He shouted, jumping up and using the back of his hand to brush the rest of the ash from his pants. There was a small hole in the denim but he wasn’t burned.

He looked up, expecting to see someone there looking apologetic, but instead he saw Harrington’s back as he headed to his car. “Hey!” Billy called. He didn’t remember this happening before, and it was probably because Billy wouldn’t have been outside, alone, at a party. “Harrington!” He tried again, but Steve was ignoring him.

Billy looked back at the party, then back at Steve, now weaving through the parked cars in the driveway. Billy could hear him yell, obviously frustrated that he was blocked in, or maybe something more?

Before he knew what he was doing he found himself weaving a path to follow Steve, coming to a stop in front of Steve’s BMW. Of course he had a BMW. “Hey.” Billy said simply.

Steve looked up at him, rolling his eyes when he saw who it was. “Go away, new guy.”

“Billy Hargrove.” 

“Whatever, I don’t care, just-” Steve didn’t finish his sentence. Billy noticed that it looked like he was about to cry.

“I’m parked on the street.” Billy offered.

“What?” The other male said, looking confused. It was kind of cute, actually.

“I parked on the street, so I wouldn’t get blocked in… I can take you home.” Billy took a tentative step forward, almost stumbling as he did. Opps, he’d had way more to drink that he thought he had, hadn’t he?

Steve reached out, almost like he was going to catch him, but dropped his arms when Billy recovered himself. “You’re in no shape to drive, man.” Steve pointed out.

Billy rolled his glassy eyes. “Whatever, dude, I’m just trying to help.” He said in a defensive tone. “Walk home for all I care.” Billy should turn to walk away, to make his threat real, but instead he remains standing there, leaning against Harrington’s car.

They’re silent for a few moments, then Billy speaks again. “We could go for a walk.. Maybe people will have left by the time we get back, and if not, I’ll be sober enough to drive you home.”

Steve paused, looking at his car before bringing his eyes back to Billy’s. “I can’t leave my car, man.”

Billy shrugged. “I’ll bring you back to get it.” He promised.

Steve didn’t reply, instead just turning to walk down the rest of the driveway, so Billy followed. 

“That’s yours, right, with the California plates?”

Billy looked though he didn’t need to. Steve was pointing at the Camaro. “Yeah, I bought her just before we left California… There was no way I was riding in the back of a car with my step-sister.”

Steve nodded, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He didn’t seem like he was in a talking mood, so they fell into a comfortable silence, walking back a deserted road, littered with candy wrappers. The trick-or-treaters had gone home a while ago. He would be worried if Max got home safely if it weren’t, you know, Max.

Billy wasn’t sure how long they had been walking, but the movement was finally making his head feel clearer. He pulled out his pack of smokes, holding it out to Steve in offering, who just shook his head. The blonde placed the cigarette between his lips and lit it. 

“So.. King Steve.” Billy said, mostly as a joke.

Steve laughed humorlessly beside him, shaking his head slightly. “I hate that nickname.” He admitted.

The Billy a year before would have used that against him. The Billy now simply nodded, filing that info away.

“What lit a fire under your ass back there?” Billy asked finally.

Steve let out a frustrated sigh, and he kicked a stray pebble on the road. “My girlfriend, she…” Steve paused, shrugging his lean shoulders. “She thinks I don’t take things seriously.”

Billy laughed. “Did you forget a three month anniversary or something?”

Steve laughed along with him, but it seemed somewhat forced to Billy. “Yeah, or something.” Steve agreed.

“Hey man, don’t sweat it. Everything will blow over tomorrow.” He knew it wouldn’t. He remembers being in gym class, playing basketball, when the Wheeler chick interrupted and broke up with him. Couldn’t say that now though. Part of him wished he could warn Steve, but it’s not like it would hurt any less now than it would tomorrow, and how would Billy even begin to explain _how_ he knew he and Nancy would break up.

Soon they were turning around, though it wasn’t discussed. Billy wasn’t even sure which one of them turned around first, but one of them followed the others lead, beginning the trek back to Tina’s house, again falling into silence.

He wasn’t sure if anything he’d said had been helpful to Steve, but he had noticed the other male’s shoulders relax, so he took that as a good sign. He wasn’t feeling as tipsy as he had before, which he was glad for. The last thing he needed was to come home stumbling drunk from a party and getting into a fight with Neil.

Billy and Steve both paused at the Camaro, standing in silence for a few moments. Steve broke it first. “I gotta get home.. See you tomorrow.” He said, not unfriendly, giving Billy a nod before taking off to his car which was now no longer blocked in. He watched as Steve’s car started, but took off before he started backing up down the driveway.

When he got home, he climbed in through his bedroom window, tumbling onto the bed head first. He paused for a moment, the world around him spinning, then removed his boots and jacket before curling up into a blanket, falling asleep much faster than he nearly did. Maybe he should drink more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going become much less canon from here. He's going to become Steve's friend which will change a lot of aspects of season two, so some scenes will happen differently.
> 
> Thanks for reading! (:


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